


Euphoria

by WitchRavenFox



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Experimentation, First Kiss, M/M, Science Experiments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchRavenFox/pseuds/WitchRavenFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shooting a gun causes the same chemical reactions in the brain as a passionate kiss. So when Sherlock isn't allowed to shoot... passionate kiss is next on the list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Euphoria

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by kerryisaninjaa on tumblr after seeing a Random Fact no 1467, and then some other cool gifs followed. Anyway, kerryisaninjaa - I hope this fits the bill.

John had just put his foot on the bottom of the final flight of stairs going up when he heard the first shot from his gun. It had to be his gun, because he had left the house earlier to Sherlock’s chorus of 'bored' ringing in his ears while he lounged on the sofa in his blue dressing gown. Again.

“What the hell are you doing?” John yelled as he wrestled his gun easily from Sherlock’s grip.

“BORED!” Sherlock paced petulantly into the kitchen.

“Yeah, well you usually are two days after a case. Haven’t you got any experiments to do?” John got his answer by wordless grunt and witnessed Sherlock tugging at his unruly midnight hair. “No excuse to bloody well use my gun. Again.”

John locked up his gun under the desk and when he turned, he almost walked into Sherlock’s chest, but scrambled back at speed.

“John, what else am I supposed to do? I need something to quiet my mind. I need something to occupy my hands. I need...”

Sherlock paused and looked down at John, he had gotten so close to him, close enough to reach out and touch. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as though considering something. “John, did you know that shooting a gun causes the same chemical reaction in the brain as a passionate kiss?”

John blinked up at Sherlock once, and twice before any words could form on his lips, his mind momentarily blank, and Sherlock waited and settled his grey gaze on John and saw John try to carefully mask his face.

“Is that so, Sherlock? Thanks for the lesson. Why would you even know that?” Sherlock rolled his eyes with a put upon sigh. “Stupid question - The Work. I don’t see how that is relevant now.”

“I... I need...”

“What? What do you need?”

“The quiet, John! I need the quiet, and you won’t let me shoot. I have no case. I need something to stop my mind from whirling. It wont stop, and I need it to stop.”

John gave a nervous laugh before he sat in the chair by the table. His legs felt weak, and he told himself that it was that idea that Sherlock needed alternative release, and that he was it. 

“Well, why don’t you go out, dance with someone and kiss them?”

“Because going out requires me to put more clothes.” Sherlock took two long strides and bent over John in his chair, bracing the table around him, his voice dropped into this seductive. “Anyway, John, why go out when you are right here for the kissing?”

John’s eyes scanned Sherlock’s lips and he licked his own, slowly with his tongue. “What? Why? What now?”

Sherlock took a slow breath and leaned closer into John. “Yes, John, now. Kiss me and give me the same chemical rush as shooting your gun would do. Kiss me! I know you have thought about it. Come on, John. Just move a little closer and...”

John did. John moved over the last two inches that separated their lips, and he sealed them together. It wasn’t soft, but firm, and John wasted no time in prying Sherlock’s lips open with his tongue, tugging him lower with a hand he’d snaked into the thick and unruly curls.

Sherlock let out a moan, and then leaned in further, he let his own tongue tease John’s and climbed into John’s lap. John licked, nipped and suckled Sherlock’s bottom lip and drew from him small mewls of pleasure until Sherlock was practically putty in his hands. Every sound he got from Sherlock made him groan in turn and return to the kiss with a new ferocity.

When they drew back, their lips were swollen, and their cheeks were flushed, and they were breathing hard.

“Right, I hope that helped Sherlock. I, ah, I need to get up though. Could you...?” Sherlock obliged, but noted John’s voice was gravelly. Sherlock also noted that when John stood, his gait was awkward. “Did it work? Are you experiencing a type of euphoria?”

“Mm, yes. I think it worked. I feel, I think you helped.”

John nodded slowly as he turned to leave. “Good, glad to help. Anytime. Night Sherlock.”

“Night.”

***

Two hours later Sherlock lay on the sofa with his hands steepled under his chin. His mind was calm, like a still ocean, but there was only one subject circled his mind.

Kissing John. feeling his lips, his hair, having his breath touch his cheek.

Sherlock knew, as he looked up at the ceiling above, that he wanted to kiss John again. It wasn’t anything to do with a chemical reaction, it was John. Everything about John.


End file.
